Chapter Eighteen
In the Forest Lurks a Spider
From the pond, they dredged a great mound of glass. What little of the grand palace that had survived a thousand years of weathering now gleamed in the reeds. They sparkled in the eyes of Grewa. What a trick those three had played on him. It was cheap and sly, he grinned, the loose skin of his pallid face folding over itself again and again. But foolish foxes grant the best gifts. And for a little while, there was a cold light in his hateful eyes.
As the party continued eastwards, they veered to the north. Slowly appearing on the horizon were the great and wide trees of the Ceroil Wood, as wide as an ocean. Each time Nephis had seen it, it was a wonder to her. Its branches spread out over the hills and valleys, casting mighty shadows whenever the sun dipped low in the sky, like a black web spread across the land. Each hill they crested, she was sure it would be upon them, but each hill they crested revealed it was still another hill away and would grow taller yet. They were old trees, weathered and tanned till they had become hard and petrified. At the edge of the wood, they were dead, hollow and dry as driftwood, jutting from the soil like a palisade, guarding the living gods within. Ever since she had first ventured through their realm and encountered the lantern-eyed cat, she had grown a sturdy and healthy fear of the woods, but there was still a gleam of wonder to that place caught in Nephis’ eyes.
She tore herself from the woods and returned her gaze to the silver rope they had found in the earth. It was light and flexible, but sturdy as anything. Though they had pulled upon and swung it about, tying it to a tree so that Moss and Kugo could burden it like slaves to a great stone, they were not able to snap it or even make it fray. And despite being buried for so long, it cleaned easily, and now shone in the light. Even if it was only rope, it did seem to be very good rope.
“Ah! My feet ache!” she cried, “Moss, carry me!”
“You know, it would be good for you to learn to walk long ways,” Kugo said.
“And let my feet callus an inch?” Nephis replied as Moss hoisted her onto his shoulders. “What if my shoes no longer fit?”
Kugo raised an eyebrow at this, but said nothing more. The next town did not come for a long while. They thought to surrender to the evening, even Kugo began to feel the wear of it all, but cropping over a hill, they spotted little thatched roofs and stone chimneys, and so pressed even further. Black banners hung above the streets, and bushes of flowers had been planted around the village. Mourning veils were set over every statue and icon, and a wreath of flowers was placed upon each stone brow. Golden and pink streamers were laced above the village like webs, silver coins bound in red and silver hanging from them like dew drops. In all, there was a strange and festive mood about the place.
Yet stranger still as they approached was the city, for her walls were beset by small, stone spiders who sat like gargoyles every few feet. And in the center of the town was a grand effigy, woven from straw, in the form of a giant spider. All around them, workmen were putting up decorations, and women were ornamenting their homes, some foul and some fair, but none sad or morose, despite the black. Nephis turned to one of these workmen.
“What is all this for?” she asked.
“A strange time for a passerby, no doubt!” The workman laughed at his own joke. “No, we are preparing for two celebrations tomorrow. The guardian of this village, Rava Murku, is to be slain by passing sellswords, and our village’s own witch is to be married!”
“Hopefully not to the guardian,” Kugo said.
“No, to a fine young man with half the legs,” the workman answered with a nod.
“Why are you to slay your guardian?” Nephis asked in surprise.
The man turned his head down in a grim expression. “We never wished her to be our guardian,” he said, “She imposed that on us, taking our sheep and horses as tribute. But, she has protected this village from wolves and orcs and other creatures from the wood. Rava Murku is a creature foul and fouler than any other. No wall can stop her, and no meal can truly satisfy her. But now, with the fair Knights of the Black Oak come to our land, we will have no need of Rava Murku! Or, that is how it was meant to be, but the knights have not yet returned from the woods. But no worry! Our witch knows things that have yet to come, she said that she was not to be married until the guardian was slain, and she is to be wed to tomorrow, so they should return soon. She has never been wrong before,” he boasted, though there was a heaviness to him when he explained the woman. “Haha, no matter, I shall keep up in hanging these black banners in Murku’s honor. She does deserve one proper celebration for all the beasties she’s eaten.”
“A seer? Can she really foretell the future?” Nephis asked.
“Aye, that she can. She was always a right eerie child, calling the rain days before. Why, she once told me to avoid working on a roof one morning, lest I die. And wouldn’t you know, a great, angry wind ripped from the hills at noontime! Nearly tore the thatching from the house!”
An oracle, how unusual. She had heard of such people; some wizards and sorcerers seemed particularly attuned to the flow of the world, but she had never known anyone to know one. ”And the Knights of the Black Oak?” Nephis asked; she was certain she had heard that name before.
“Aye, grand knights they are. Of an order of man, or so they say. Dedicated to helping the good folk of the earth,” he explained.
“Oh, well, that sounds good. But what of this mage?” she asked, “I would like to meet her.”
“Oh? She lives just down the road in a fine little cottage. Is there something ahead you fear?” he asked.
“No, it is just rare to find a mage in such a little town,” she explained.
And they set themselves down the road to that fine, little cottage.
“Nephis,” Moss said, “Am I your guardian?” he asked.
“Yes,” Nephis said, “If Kugo is my blade, then you are my shield.”
“You’re not going to slay me? Are you?” he asked in a low and quivering voice.
Nephis laughed, “I would not dream of harming you, Moss, should it be the only thing I could do.”
And Moss was relieved.
“But why do you want to speak with the witch?” Kugo asked her, “You don’t believe she can really tell the future? Do you? Is that possible?”
“I heard tell of true oracles, though I have never met one myself. And even if she cannot tell the future, she is likely a knowledgeable mage, it is rare to find a hedge-mage. I thought perhaps she could teach me a thing or two to help us on our journey. Perhaps there is a spell to ease aching feet, or to smooth lumpy earth,” Nephis said, rubbing her shoulders, “She might even have a spell to loosen dragon scales – Ha! Imagine that.”
“And what do you make of the missing knights?” Kugo asked in a whisper. “I say we go seek them out.”
“I didn’t want to think much of it,” Nephis replied in an uneasy voice. “I pray that they are only delayed.”
And they came to the hedge-witch’s home, which was indeed fine and little, set in the center of the street, surrounded by colorful flowers and ribbons. Streamers lead from each house around it to its center, bowing down so that the dew drops upon them trickled towards her, seeming like flies caught in a web, though much prettier. Nephis knocked upon the door, and was greeted by red cheeked and round bodied old woman. “Hello, lovely, do I know you? Are you a friend of the bride?”
“I am not,” Nephis said. “I take it you are not the bride, then?” Nephis had always imagined oracles to be a bit older, more wizened. “I am here to see your hedge-mage,” she said.
“Ah! Looking to have your fortune told? Has the wedding got you curious, little lady?” the old woman teased.
“Well,” Nephis stuttered.
“It is no matter,” the lady said, and she called into the house, “Naki! You have visitors! Can you see them? Tell me, or I will send them away!”
And from within rang a soft and tender voice, “Send them in.”
The three of them stepped into the little house, beset by charms and wedding gifts. The small halls and heavy wooden floors were piled high with presents and banners, and ribbons waiting to be set out. For all the house’s littleness, it was set with all one might need balanced neatly in small rooms so that it was cozy and proper. And in the sitting room, sat atop pillows and dressed in white and blue was a young woman with great and long flaxen hair. She was fair with red cheeks, though she held her fingers and her gaze was cast down. When they entered, she looked up in excitement, though that faded when she did not recognize them.
“Oh, my apologies, I mistook you all for someone else,” she said.
“For the Knights of the Black Oak?” Kugo asked.
“Kugo!” Nephis hissed and elbowed him.
“Yes! Have you heard from them?” she asked in a flurry, leaning over to hear every word.
“No, I am afraid not,” Nephis said.
“Oh . . .” and the young lady grew dour. She was indeed a little thing, slender like a willow tree; she had doll-like eyes. “Forgive me, my lady! I didn’t mean to make everything awkward!”
“My lady?” Nephis asked, “Why do you say that?”
“Well, you carry yourself like a proper woman. Fashionably. Are you not?” Naki asked and looked into Nephis’ eyes. She had piercing blue eyes that made Nephis shudder; as if they cut through her, they were hard to look away from.
“That’s neither here nor there,” Nephis answered. “I am a mage, myself, I thought we could speak.”
“Oh! I want to, but I can’t! I can think of nothing but my wedding! I’m sorry,” she apologized.
“Are you sad?” Moss asked.
“Sad?” Naki said, “No, I am afraid.”
“Why?” he asked.
Naki seemed hardly put off by him, as if to her he was just as much of a person as Nephis or Kugo thought him to be. “I am not to be wed until our guardian is dead.”
“Well, isn’t the wedding tomorrow?” Kugo asked. “That’s a good thing then, or your prophesying is wrong. Either way, you’ll be married tomorrow.”
“I hope so,” Naki sighed, “But I have a terrible feeling about it all.”
“How so?” Nephis asked. “Is he not a good man?”
“No,” she laughed, “My betrothed is a wonderful man. No, when I have dreamt of late, I have had the same dream. I am walking in a field, but the field does not end, and I cannot reach my Lucian. He stands in another valley from me, near and far. One that I cannot reach, as if the air were a wall before me.”
And the room fell silent. It was an ominous dream. But dreams were only dreams, surely. And Naki sat, steeped in shadow and light. As if the light of the world were drawn to her and her piercing eyes. The white and blue of her maiden dress spread over her plush chair and onto the floor, so that she seemed to be growing from the floor. The house smelled of flowers and spices, of a thousand perfumes, that the air became thick and heavy.
“Forgive my asking, but are you sellswords?” the oracle asked.
“What? Did you foresee that?” Nephis asked.
Naki laughed softly, “No, it is just rare to see such strange people here. Especially one carrying a sword in my house. Most would have the sense to leave them at the door.”
“We are something like that,” Kugo said, “My apologies . . .”
“I forgive you,” Naki said with a laugh, like little bells. “I do not have much money to give you, but if you could check on those knights, it would ease my mind,” she asked. And when none of them replied, she turned to Nephis, “I would be happy to talk with you. I was only taught by my tutor, so I only know what is convenient to me, but I would be happy to share!”
“I’m not sure,” Nephis sighed.
But then Kugo pulled her and Moss aside, “One moment!” He looked at them, “I think we should do this.”
“Why?” Nephis asked, “We should be off at a library doing research on the stone, or searching for it, not checking in on some knights who are either perfectly fine or found something that will kill us, too.”
“We don’t know where to look next,” he said, “We’re lost either way.”
Nephis pouted and then came a sharpness to her eyes, “What? She may be pretty enough, but this one is about to be married.”
“Are you jealous of her?” Kugo asked, “Stop being catty.”
Nephis shrank down into a withered bean.
Kugo pulled out their purse and opened it up. Inside was little more than a few piddly coins. “We don’t have much left,” he said, “But if we go find those knights, we can pick what they’ve left behind. And if they are alive, then we’ve done a good deed.”
“That’s a bit grim,” Nephis said.
“We’ll bury them. It’s not like they’ll be using anything,” he countered.
Nephis frowned, but the idea of eating stale bread and sleeping on the hard earth for much longer was a nasty prospect. “Fine,” she said, “But the next town we come to, we are staying at an inn. For at least a night.”
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“Fine,” he said, and they turned back to Naki. “We’ll do it,” he told her, “Tell us the way.”
And her eyes were filled with so much joy for a moment that Nephis felt guilty for her biting comments. The girl rushed forward, leaping off the couch to catch her by the hand. “Oh! You are a saint! You must come tomorrow and sit with us at our table! We will have tea and cakes, it will be wonderful to have another friend!” But then, like a fog rolling in from the hills, the seer’s eyes were shrouded in worry. “One moment!” she cried and rushed to another room, where she returned with a silver charm, like the solichor hanging outside the village. She said a prayer over it, and then chanted and spun with it, her dress and ribbons swirling and tangling around her. “Rabbits and beezels, carrots and weasels, may autumn come and winter never, be now protected by white heather!” And she slapped it between her and Nephis’ palm, rubbing both ends until she feared burning. “There, now you will be protected,” she said with a grin.
All three of them stared blankly. “O-oh!” Nephis answered, “Thank you.” She slipped the charm into her purse. She had her doubts as to how much of a proper mage Naki really was.
They were told the way and headed for the tall and wicked woods. Nephis was heading the way, walking with quick step and a forward eye. Deep in the black woods, they would find a broken trail, where the growth of the forest had not yet settled, as if it were walked upon from time to time. They would find a spot that fell as if one stood atop a wall. Then, should they bring a light, it would be clear that they had found the lair of Rava Murku.
Kugo and Moss caught up with her, quickly lighting a lantern before the morning was shut away by the tall canopy. Kugo walked carefully, always looking over his shoulders, watching for any terrible creature that lurked within. Nephis, however, hurried on, climbing over roots taller than her and pressing through fields of moss and stone. She hardly looked where she went, until she tripped, banging her knee on a stone. “Ah!” she cried.
“Are you alright?” Moss asked and picked her up off the ground.
“I’m fine,” she said, “It’s only a knock.”
“Why are you so hasty?” Kugo asked, his mask seeming frightful in the black ink of the Ceroil Wood.
“I don’t want to be delayed,” she said.
“In finding the stone?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Why are you so desperate for it?” he pressed, “And more than usual.”
She cast her gaze down and could not bear to look him in the eyes. “You were right, some months ago, to say I lived in a gilded cage. I have lived my whole life as a songbird, well-fed, and well-groomed. But as I grew, the song I was meant to play became clearer to me. And I did not like it. If I can't find the Vallai Kei, then I am little more than a songbird. And a songbird should not be a terrible thing if I were to be one to true nobility, or to be wed to a man I can love. But that was not to be given me, that is not what I was to be for. And now, I have run. And now, I am nothing. And that, I cannot bear." She shook her head. “I have to find it. To set everything as it should have been.”
Kugo fell silent. He wished to chastise her, to tell her that she should learn some humility, to live like he did. But he knew what it meant to have your place in the world stolen. He could not return to that world, but she had left it willingly. “Do you resent your father?” he asked.
“I love my father, but I fear the Emperor,” she said. “Do you resent your father for what he did to your mother?” she asked.
“You know, I like to think my father was a very ambitious human,” he joked. “But whether orc or man, that was not my father. Someone loved me enough to leave me at the steps of a monastery. Someone loved me enough to bring me to my father. The Abbot was a good man. To me, the world outside those stone walls was a biting place, but to my abbot, I was always just Kugo, his son.” And then in the darkness, shadows fell deeper within the carvings of his mask. “But now . . .”
Moss stayed quiet all the while. He recalled no father. He doubted that he even had one. And as he looked around in the grim darkness, he thought he appeared more like the great and cold trees that surrounded them, and not like Nephis or Kugo.
Kugo held his tongue. He did not want to admit it, but he now also wanted to find that Vallai Kei. He, too, wanted to return to how things were. “You know you once asked me what I would do if I ever found the stone. I’ve thought about it. I think I would undo that day I lost my brothers and my father. And if I could not, then I would use it to make the world right,” he said darkly.
And so they were in the dark for a long while.
The trees of the Ceroil wood were taller than any tower and wider than any home. Each was a monument beyond man’s making. Any, an old god. Yet Kugo could never shake the unease he felt near them. For the trees had eyes, scars in their bark, watching every way and following him wherever he stepped. The forest was a hungry thing, and it waited for him to slip and fall, so that it might eat him. Worse, he had never been in this part, and so was resigned to use his lantern well, shining their place to each monster that lurked in the shadows. Yet nothing came for them. Nothing made a noise. It was as if they had entered the land of the dead.
Then, as they had been told, they came to a sharp drop. The path stopped as if the very earth had been cut and taken away. They stood atop a sheer wall. Kugo shone his light down into the pit. And in the dark glimmered dust and great threads of silver, like ghosts fading away. It was full of shining, luring webs. Traps hanging in the darkness, breathlessly waiting to sing to those they had caught. This is where those Knights of the Black Oak had plunged themselves into. Nephis and Kugo looked to one another, saying nothing. It would have been wise to turn around and leave, to say that way those knights errant had survived. But that is not what they promised. And so, Nephis wound that silver rope around the small end of a great root and dropped it into the black vale, watching as their silver line disappeared into the darkness.
Kugo first, they crawled down into the lair of Rava Murku, the wicked she-guardian of that little village. By fate, the silver rope had not landed upon the webs, which were as thick as the hawser that bound the great vessels of sea and gleamed in the lantern light like the soft silk of foreign lands, but if they touched it, this hawser would bind them; they were sure of it.
The bottom of the vale was soft with lichen, but as Nephis stepped forward, she felt a small branch snap beneath her shoe, and its crack echoed throughout the basin. She flinched as it echoed. “A branch,” she muttered, “Watch out,” then she paused, “A branch? One so small in this wood . . .”
“Nephis, do not look down,” Kugo said in a cold, stern voice.
A dread set over Nephis, but she did not look down and continued forward. Every so often, as she walked, she would step upon another of these branches buried in the lichen, fallen from the spider webs. She pulled Naki’s silver charm from her purse and held it tightly. A branch, she told herself, a branch in a forest.
As they walked, they found that the basin was great, and the web always above them. And as they walked without a trail, the darkness swallowed them deeper within so that they knew neither north nor south or sun nor moon, only light and dark.
“Knights,” Nephis gently called, “Are you there?”
“Quiet,” Kugo hissed, “It will hear you.”
“How else are we to find the knights?” she whispered back, “Spiders don’t have ears. Moss, do you suppose a spider can hear?”
Moss thought for a while. “I can hear,” he said, “I don’t have ears.”
Nephis shrank and sealed her lips.
They continued, following the webs above them, watching carefully for any signs of life or death. But there was nothing but moss and shadow. Each sound, each snap pricked Nephis’ ears, ringing out like short cries or the yipping of wild foxes, silenced in a moment. Then, as she pressed off of the soft earth, Nephis stepped upon hard and flat stone. The sound of her hard soles echoed away from them. In the lantern light was revealed a white, stone floor, made of good tiles and smooth to the touch. Looking about them, they saw ruins. The hollowed corpse of a small civilization lay before them, bound in web and vine. Here, the web came lower, so that whole buildings were veiled in it, like the lace of a god.
Deeper and deeper within they wandered, each silently praying that the other suggest they leave. But no one did. Within the shadows, somewhere, lurked the she-spider. Her venomous pincers were waiting to cut them in two, to bite them and lull them to sleep, so that she might suck out their marrow and blood. Their hair stood on end as a sound echoed far away. Thuum! Like the sound of a low lute being strummed, it shook their bones. And they watched as the web above them shook, trembling and then settling. Rava Murku was near. But wherever she was, she remained out of sight.
Then, in the silence, came a groaning. A man made a pained noise somewhere before them. Three bundles of web hung from the ceiling like white fruit, ripening on the bough. And one of them was groaning. Quickly, Kugo grabbed onto the bundle and wound back his blade. Whum! In one cut, the sac fell into Moss’ arms. Whum! Went another. Whum! Went the last. Moss lay each one in a line, and Nephis and Kugo tore at the web bundles.
Nephis pulled away the sticky lace to reveal the face of a man. Pale and pallid and gaunt, nearly green in the face. He looked dead as he lay stiff, but he groaned loudly, as if he had eaten something rotten or was terribly bruised. Nephis did not think it was right for a man to act so, but she could forgive him for losing to the terrible beast.
Within another egg was a woman with hair like straw and a sharp face. She, too, was greying from the poison. The last one held a man with greasy black hair and large ears; he had a mean face to him. Each of them was alive, though only breathing softly. They tore the sacs from them, peeling the webbing off until it seemed that three pale corpses lay before them.
Kugo stripped his glove and set his hand against the woman’s forehead. “Cold, clammy,” he muttered and dug through his bag until he found his foodstuffs. “Cleared out still,” he muttered, “These will have to do.” He had some strips of cured meat, and peppercorns, which he roughly ground with the flat of his knife and rolled them into the meat so that it was coated. On each of their tongues, he lay the strip. The girl scrunched up her nose and winced in her sleep, the pepper stinging her tongue, until she awoke. Slowly and heavily, her eyelids opened. She gasped and spat out the flesh. “Where is it?” she hissed. She had an accent from the north and the east; it was a soft and long voice. And then she hissed in pain and grasped her side. There was a puncture in her plate armor, as if someone had jammed it through with a candlestick. But she did not bleed.
“Can you stand?” Kugo asked, slipping back on his glove before she noticed. “And you need to eat this, you’re cold and wet with phlegm.” He handed her the jerky, which she then chewed and swallowed. “I’m afraid that’s all I have.”
And carefully, she pressed herself up the wall of a nearby house, leaning all her weight against it. “Thank you,” she said, “I can stand a little.”
The other two began to stir. Each of them woke with shock, but quickly quieted themselves once they saw Kugo shushing them. They thought to run, but where to? Rava Murku lurked somewhere, but still kept herself hidden from them. If she knew thieves had come into her nest, she did not make it known. But as the party began to support the Knights of the Black Oak and lead them the way they came, Marcus, the tallest among them, spoke up. “No,” he grunted in a pained voice. “We still have business here.”
“To kill the guardian?” Nephis asked in a whisper.
He scoffed. “That was far beyond us,” he shuddered upon remembering the beast. “We came to this part of the wood for our own reason; we only thought we might do a bit of good while we were here. No use in dying, though. We shouldn’t be long. What the Black Oak seeks is near.”
“What reason?” Kugo asked, “You’re in enough danger as is, you can hardly walk. What are you looking for?”
The Knights of the Black Oak all glanced at one another. “Do you promise not to think we are fools?” Marcus asked queerly.
“I promise,” Nephis said, “As do the others.”
“We seek relics of an ancient empire. We hope them to be clues for a most grand prize, a boon to the whole world. Have you ever heard of the Star of the King?” he asked.
Nephis and Kugo winced at hearing it. All at once, Nephis recalled where she had heard of the Knights of the Black Oak. In that letter to the sorcerer hunter, the Wadiam scorned them; they, too, were looking for the Vallai Kei. Both she and Kugo stayed quiet.
“Ah, so you do think we are fools? No matter, it may be best that way,” Marcus sighed.
“I don’t think you’re foolish,” Moss piped, “We’re also looking for the Stone.”
Ah! Moss! Nephis screamed in her mind.
“Really?” Marcus said, “I suppose you are in these woods for the same reason then?” And he stood a little taller.
“We came here to find you,” Moss answered. “The seeing lady asked to.”
“Oh,” and Marcus relaxed some, “That was very kind of you.”
And then the blonde shield maiden, Lorelei, as she called herself, “Then you must understand how we must hurry. There is something in these ruins we seek for our leader, Captain Fane,” she sighed, relishing the name.
“Indeed,” Marcus piped back in, and then, with a shaky knee, he knelt. “You have saved our lives. I would pledge my service if it were still mine. But even still, I owe you a blood-debt. Speak the word and I will grant it, and quick, I fear the guardian is near.”
Kugo was ready to turn around when all of the sudden, Nephis spoke up, standing a little straighter than before.
“An honorable man,” she said, “I would love to see what you find. But before blood-debts, stand, you must make it out alive before you owe me anything. But perhaps I would accept that relic in turn?”
Kugo cursed her silently. This was no time for scavenging around the nest of a beast. Yet, he was not about to leave her behind. And so they searched.
Marcus laughed, before wincing, “Haha. I am afraid I cannot give you what isn’t mine. That relic belongs to all of the Black Oak. Only Captain Fane could grant it to you.”
Most of the ruins were empty, long since looted and threadbare. But deeper they continued, until the webbing grew thick and wild. Entire buildings were gummed up in it, and even some of the street. No longer was it a canopy, but it was becoming a very forest within the woods. Like a foul mimicry of the world around it, the spider wove its traps, as if it were trying to trick the long-dead residents that they were home, or rather, as if it were veiling the dead city in its shroud. Nephis felt sick to her stomach. The air here was still and without scent, like dust and thinness did it smell. The deeper they walked, the denser the ruins became. Homes stacked atop one another and alleys grew thin and exacting. And so too grew the webbing. They were restrained to not more than a few steps across of stone walkway, the rest was bound and anchored in the thick web. All around them were desiccated wrappings, long sucked dry, frail corpses still hidden. Some were small and man-sized, and others were great.
The square homes studded the city like tombs blanketed in snow. It reminded Nephis of the necropolises that one saw at times along the great road, little homes for the dead all settled next to one another, awaiting the world to come. From the dark, like a mountain faintly coming into view, was a great building. High and mighty, the other homes bowed low in comparison; this one caught the shadows in its many grooves as it watched over the rest. It was tall and square and tiered like a ziggurat. But growing from its roof was a silver funnel. The web bowed down, like the winds frozen, leading into the building. Each of them froze, not wanting to take another step forward. But Marcus was sure that this was where they would find their relic.
“Mouse,” he called, “What can you tell about the entrance, the one made for men?”
And the shorter of the two men hopped and stepped gently until he came to the door. He removed his hood to show that he had great, large ears, like a bat’s – though his were man's ears. He listened closely to the door, his head pressed against it. Then he tapped gently three times. “Not trapped,” Mouse whispered, “At least not as far as I can tell. Should I open it?”
“Go ahead,” Marcus said.
“Marcus, are you certain about this?” Lorelei quivered. “I think this is the beast’s nest.”
“Lorelei, I thought before the spider got me that I had died for Captain Fane. And I was proud of that. What is another death?”
“You are right,” she said gently, as if her heart was warmed by the very sun. And she drew her blade. “I will be ready this time.”
Kugo and Nephis were put off, but did not dare say a thing. Mouse pulled out a belt of tools, and he began to jam them into the gaps between the doors. “These places, it took me a while to understand them. But they are ingenious, one great lock.” The door trembled and rose a half inch from the ground. Mouse lifted the door with a single finger and threw it up. A stairwell, swallowed by darkness, though they shone their lanterns. Mouse was the first to go down. And as if a lure drew upon their hearts, each of them entered into the temple. Down they went into its dark belly. From the door were only stairs within in, the glory of whatever god this place was built for was too great for mortal men to ascend to; no, you must descend, you must go down and down. At the bottom, it opened up to them, sprawling rooms spread like roots every which way. It was dusty, the air was so heavy with it that the lantern’s dull glow was duller and wider. Chamber after chamber, they crawled. It reminded Nephis of the white towers in the fields, they were much the same. But these were decorated with what she must presume were the temple’s gods. Bulls and goats, but then their heads scratched out for those of birds. Nephis could not bear to look at the carvings; there was something evil about them. She began to rub the silver charm again, “Rabbits and beezels,” she muttered before quieting.
Then they were stopped. In the center of a great chamber was a clutch of giant eggs, bound in spider’s silk. She might have missed it, were she not looking carefully. But the nest had been laid around a small and thin altar. Upon it, nearly buried, could just be seen a pendant.
“A nest!” Lorelei hissed.
“They are dead,” Moss said.
“How can you tell?” Nephis asked in surprise.
“They smell dead?” Moss answered, as if it were a foolish question.
“I suppose they are dead then,” Marcus hummed. “But they do look fresh. What do I know of spiders!” He stepped forward and gazed into the tunnel of eggs, as if it were made for him. “That will be our relic!” he hummed and thrust his hand in. The eggs wept as he did, like the sound of dry leaves being crushed and pushed about. And he grabbed hold of the amulet. The web about the clutch trembling with his arm.
Then a cold, terrible shiver came about Nephis. The webs all began to thrum violently.
Rava Murku was coming for them.

